


The path between you and me is a straight line down.

by Nats_North_by_North



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:46:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4490616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nats_North_by_North/pseuds/Nats_North_by_North
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically a short Clint and Natasha centric version of what happened after Mako and Raleigh were fished from the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The path between you and me is a straight line down.

You say: She needs a doctor. You say: I need a shot, need a shower, need a second, minute, maybe; could you… give me an hour?

You don’t say. The twenty-five rainy summers in her bones washed the thirty years of Alaska right out of me. Because you ain’t broken and you ain’t known jack shit ‘bout emotions till you lost your other half and met someone so similar it kinda hurts there where you promised it never would again. Yeah, you’re kinda shit at keepin’ promises. Your mama told you that when you was sleepin’ on her lap. Mama ain’t ever looked so kind at a liar. Mama didn’t know you’d ever need another girl more than her.

You don’t say it, but you know you’re still in the drift when they pull your aching fingers apart and shuffle you into separate Med Bays full of questions and questions and people looking for answers beneath your armour, the one they tear from your skin like your am made of diamonds, like you am made of something more than the chalk and stardust you’re currently running on. 

She feels like steady rock in the sun, your co-pilot. You can feel her on the inside of your prefrontal cortex, pushing, prodding, like she is still a part of you, your movements synonymous as they lay our frames to cots and we await the aftershock of breathing tube’d air and anaesthesia.

–Don’t you leave me like he did.- 

One by one, little medical teams, two a pair, pour into you and shake you up like you need to be reminded that there’s alien gunk in your system, and in the process of –You should have died’s- and –Fuck… Fuck we’re still alive because of you two’s- You fall away and become nothing, because dreaming means home, and home means Alaska and Alaska means Barney. And he died, leaving a hole- A Barney shaped hole in my head.

When You are cleared for good, it is her nose pressed to my pulse point that keeps us from falling apart.  
“I’ve never had the best timing” she whispers into the hollow of your collarbone, and it has you smiling, sleepy fingertips across her clavicle tapping Morse codes –I need you. Don’t you know I need you? - Into the soft tissue of her skin.


End file.
